


I keep running for a soft place to fall

by klassmartin



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Mention of Character Death, Ned gets hurt but it's all good, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), an attempt at exploring Peter's abandonment issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-13 05:07:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19244446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klassmartin/pseuds/klassmartin
Summary: "I failed to protect him. I fail all the time. What is the point in me being… this… When all I do is get the people I love hurt… Killed?" He meets her gaze once more, voice coated in despair. "Everyone I care about gets hurt, MJ. First my parents, then Uncle Ben, Mr Stark… Now Ned."





	I keep running for a soft place to fall

**Author's Note:**

> I've been enjoying this fandom so much, and decided to create this little mess because our poor boy keeps losing everyone and he needs protecting. Thanks for reading, let me know what you think!
> 
> Title edited from Aurora - Runaway

She gets the call at 11:52 on a Friday night, dragging her from a restless slumber, the hardback once resting on her stomach falling with a thump to the floor. Disorientated, MJ mutters a quiet, "Fuck," hand lazily sweeping the pillow beside her for the offending item. A ridiculous selfie Peter had sent her once fills the screen.

"I swear to God, Parker, this better -"

"MJ, it's Ned. He's… Oh god, please. Just get to the hospital."

* * *

 

MJ enters the hospital waiting room a little while later with a tremor in her hand, jaw tensed to maintain composure. Her dark eyes bounce around until she spots the dozen or so people gathered to one side, all wearing identical expressions of fear and concern. She feels a little out of place, the level of emotion making her falter. Before she can consider escaping, Ned's mother spots her, sweeping her into a hug that MJ returns stiffly.

"Oh Michelle," the older lady keeps a grasp on her shoulders, and MJ struggles to reconcile the woman with the ever-present smile that she's just beginning to know with this flurry of fervour before her. "It's so kind of you to be here to support Edward. He'll be happy to know you're here."

MJ pulls away as soon as she deems acceptable, letting her return to her husband's side. She glances around the people gathered in the waiting room. Among them, May is speaking in hushed tones to a relative, features pinched and hair falling from a faded scrunchie. There is a distinct lack of Peter by her side. MJ makes her way over to her, the most familiar of the adults assembled, and May gives her a strained smile.

"MJ, dear, I'm so sorry." The older woman's hand twitches, like she wants to reach out to her, but it stays at her side.

"What happened? Peter didn't explain…"

May leans in closer, her tone dropping to just above a whisper. "Oh, it's so awful. The boys were getting dinner a few blocks away, and there was a guy, I think he tried to mug them, and Peter, he didn't have the suit but he still tried, and… Peter said Ned tried to grab the knife but -" May breaks off to wipe away a tear. "He was just trying to help."

MJ shakes her head, her messy curls flying haphazardly around her face, trying to rid herself of the mental image. Ned only ever wants to help, spends countless nights in front of his computer to assist his best friend in any way he can. More often than not recently, she joins him, her nose in a book but her ears trained on their every word.

May steps towards her, mouth turned down with concern. "Peter isn't coping very well. He disappeared a while ago, isn't answering his phone. Poor boy, this must be so hard for him. Those two have been inseparable for so long now."

There's a twinge in her chest, but she pushes it aside to focus on where Peter may have gone. MJ's eyes rise to the ceiling. "Don't worry, I think I know where he is."

After a few wrong turns, MJ finishes climbing the stairs to the hospital roof. The air is cooler up here, wind whipping around her as the clouds above rumble in preparation for a storm. It's dark enough that she takes a moment to adjust her eyes. There, lit up by the city below them, is the back of a boy - _her boy_ , her heart whispers - with a universe weighing him down, suited in red and blue with his head cocked to the side.

"I know you're there," he croaks, arms wrapped tightly across the spider emblem on his chest.

MJ hesitates before approaching, her boots crunching unpleasantly on the gravel. "Hey nerd, your aunt is looking for you."

Peter doesn't respond, and she steps a little closer, careful not to glimpse the distance to the ground. She's never been very good with heights.

"You're listening?" she guesses, close enough that her elbow brushes against him, putting the goosebumps stubbornly down to the brisk breeze around them.

"Surgery is nearly over," he replies distractedly, "There was a moment where - But he's okay." Peter pauses, his Adam's apple bobbing thickly despite the suit covering him. "He's gonna be okay."

"That's great," she says genuinely, "But how are you?"

Spiderman's mechanical eyes squint, like he's holding back tears or focusing really hard on nothing at all. In the distance is a cacophony of car horns and shouting, but up here, the silence presses against her the longer he ignores her question. MJ shifts until she's directly in front of him, her extra bit of height forcing him to look at her. When he relents, she reaches for the edge of his mask, movements deliberately slow to allow him time to protest. He doesn't, and soon enough the red rimmed eyes of one of her best friends gaze back at her. She leaves a hand hovering by his shoulder, releasing a breath she didn't know she was holding. "Peter…"

He looks wrecked. There's a dark smudge peeking out from his collar that she suspects is blood, and his hair points in every direction. Lines that shouldn't exist on a teenage boy's face make him look so much older. The immediate need to pull him to her, to try and fix what the world keeps trying to break, stuns her. Sure, she's gotten used to the underlying current of day-to-day concern that comes hand in hand with your friend being a superhero. She's scowled at the bruises, the cuts, after a patrol around the city; she's curled up at the end of his bed with countless books on how to cope with grief after they had returned from the snap, the mattress shuddering beneath her as he cried in his sleep. She's witnessed the haunted look in his eyes before, the one that only comes from watching someone you cared for slip away. Every time, she had been reasonably confident about what to do - fetch the first aid kit, encourage Ned to get him to discuss his feelings, curl her hand around his calf and brush her thumb over his skin until he settles once more. Now, she feels useless.

"There was so much blood," he chokes out, and he sways on his feet like he'll collapse at any moment, before looking back out at the skyline again. His lips press together, hands clenched into fists against his sides. She can see him building up walls, knows the move intimately, trying to protect himself from it all.

"This wasn't your fault," she tries anyway. She can see him already carrying that unnecessary burden, and the words are no where near enough but _what can she do?_

His eyes darken with a fury she's never known him to possess. "Yes it is," he says through gritted teeth.

"No, Peter -"

"I failed to protect him. I fail _all the time_. What is the point in me being… _this_ … When all I do is get the people I love hurt… Killed?" He meets her gaze once more, voice coated in despair. "Everyone I care about gets hurt, MJ. First my parents, then Uncle Ben, Mr Stark… Now Ned."

"Peter, that's not true," she tries desperately, but he steps away from her this time, his shoulders brushing his ears with the tension they hold. He's shutting down, shutting her _out_ , and her limited experience with friendships is letting her down. She reaches for him, tries to pull him back to her, but he shrugs her off with ease, approaches the rooftop edge.

"You should leave. It's only a matter of time before you get hurt too. Get out while you can, while you're still alive."

His hollow voice echoes around her brain. She feels nauseous. How does she make him understand? "No, Peter, I'm not leaving you -"

"Goodbye, Michelle," he says flatly, and before she can say another word, he steps over the edge and swings out of sight, the city sounds quickly drowning out her desperate screams of his name.

* * *

 

Days slowly pass. MJ falls into a new, pained kind of normal.

Every morning, she scrolls through all the Spiderman blogs she has saved, absorbing any information she can. _Spiderman saves family from car trapped under fallen tree_ , reads one headline. _Spiderman thwarts suspected terrorist attack_ , reads another. Each fills her with a mixture of relief that's he's out there, somewhere, and a sense of dread as the articles increasingly mention injuries sustained. Is he trying to punish himself? The worry makes her itch, and every ignored message, every ignored phone call, sends her a little further into a spiral.

She goes to school, does her best to take meticulous notes for the three of them. Ned wakes up and spends a few more days at the hospital, then is eventually cleared to return, but Peter has been gone for weeks now. May is running out of excuses to give the school.

Decathlon was always something she looks forward to, but now it's just another thing stopping her from running out the door and searching the city. Ned accompanies her most of the time, and she does her best to fill the gaping hole that Peter has left in their lives. She even lets Ned talk her into helping with his latest Star Wars Lego set. Anything to see him smile again.

Every so often, they spot him. A tiny blur of red against the sky, always swinging, never seeming to rest. Every time, they fail to catch up to him. They eventually resign themselves to returning home, to repeating the process the next day and the next.

And sometimes, she swears she feels someone watching her. She'll be leaving the subway or entering the school grounds, and this feeling of… _something_ rushes up her spine. But whenever she turns, there's nothing there.

Eleven days after he left her on the roof, May gets a call from Pepper Potts. She's worried; Peter missed a scheduled debrief with Happy, isn't responding to calls. May bursts into tears and MJ pries the phone from her shaking hands.

"Um, hi, Miss Potts." Her voice shakes despite the ongoing situation; she's always greatly admired the woman. "This is Michelle."

"Ah, you must be MJ," Pepper responds kindly. "It's nice to put a voice to the name."

MJ files away the fact that Peter must have at least mentioned her once for another day. "Likewise. I, um - Peter isn't here. He's having a minor superhero-life crisis and we haven't seen him for a while."

"I see." Pepper's voice remains calm, like this has happened to her before. Then MJ kicks herself, because of course it has; she was married to frickin' Iron Man.

Pepper assures her she'll 'get her best people on it', which mystifies her until two days later, when she gets two messages simultaneously. One, from an unknown number with just a string of numbers. The other, from May, urging her to get over to the apartment as soon as she can.

MJ skips her final class of the day in favour of jumping on the next train to the Parker's. The journey is less than fifteen minutes, but it feels like a lifetime before she's finally climbing the final flight of stairs and knocking impatiently on their door.

"MJ," May breathes out as she lets her in, and it's all the teenager needs to understand. She can see it in the slant of May's shoulders, the slight upturn of her lips, the hand pressed to her heart.

"Where is he?" MJ whispers, too scared to speak any louder in case the moment shatters around her. She's had too many dreams about his return to be able to put her faith in this reality just yet.

"In his room, sleeping." Tears fill May's eyes behind her thick lenses as she leads the way through the apartment. "Rhodey caught up to him a few hours ago, and there's been a few doctors checking him over. They sedated him, apparently he wasn't very pleased with being strong armed home. They've assured me the only thing physically wrong is a severe lack of sleep."

"And mentally?" MJ hesitates to ask.

May rests a hand against Peter's door, closely inspecting the aged carpet. "One step at a time," she finally responds, stepping across the threshold.

The first thing she spots in the dim light is Ned, presumably having come straight from his check-up at the hospital, swinging around in nervous circles on the desk chair. He pauses at the intrusion, offering MJ a shaky smile. She returns the sentiment briefly, before turning her attention to the lump in the middle of the bottom bunk.

Beneath a thick blanket that MJ herself has napped under before, lies Peter. He's sleeping awkwardly on his side, face pressed into the pillow, one hand secured to a rail of the bed with some kind of fancy technological handcuffs. There's deep circles under his eyes, his hair is matted with grime, and the yellow hue of a healing bruise across one cheek.

Ned catches her gaze lingering on the contraption around his wrist. "The War Machine guy said you'd know how to unlock it when the time came," he explains.

Ah. The numbers. She'd have to get Peter to tell his little Avenger buddies that she didn't appreciate being contacted anonymously.

MJ takes another few steps into the room. Then she steps back.

She has so many questions, so much frustration at this stupid, broken boy, but she can't figure out how to sort through it all right now, so instead she asks, "Did you get your sutures removed?"

"Yup," Ned nods absently, watching Peter's chest rise and fall. "Officially no longer feel like a ragdoll."

His weak attempt at humour settles her enough that she exhales deeply and approaches the bed. Her eyes narrow as she takes him in closer up, chest hurting from being able to relax for first time in weeks. She prods his forehead with a long finger, needing to know for sure he's out for the count. Peter doesn't even twitch.

"Well," she says as she turns to face Ned and May, "Now he's back, I can go finish that English assignment."

MJ strolls past the stunned pair, all the way to the front door.

"Wait, MJ," Ned calls as he rushes to follow her. "Don't go. He'll want you here."

Anger flares deep in her stomach, her tone biting as she hisses back, "He left us, Ned. There's no reason to stay."

The door slams behind her.

* * *

 Four hours pass. MJ hides out at a little hole-in-the-wall café that she discovered with Peter a few months back, that has good coffee (for him) and even better pastries (for her). There are ten missed calls from Ned, three from May, and over two dozen messages that she's stubbornly ignored, staring blankly at her latest book. She can't remember the title, much less the plot. 

She's on her third cup of tea when her phone begins to buzz again. Her heart clenches when she sees the picture on the screen. 

Her finger swipes traitorously across the screen before she can even think about it.

"Hey." His oh-so-familiar voice is husky through the speaker.

"What do you want?"

There's an uncomfortable pause in which she almost hangs up, before he blurts out, "I need to use the bathroom. 

There's another, much stranger pause.

"And?"

"I can't exactly… Go."

"What are you talking about?"

"Apparently you're the only one who can release me."

"Oh. _Oh_." MJ shakes her head, hides her red cheeks behind her free hand. "I'll send the combination to your aunt."

When he doesn't say anymore, she slumps back in her chair. "Well. Goodbye."

She puts the phone back on the table, picks up her book, and stares at the pages once more.

* * *

 

"Wh-What the - What the hell?!" 

"Oh good. You're awake -"

"Did you just slap me?!"

"- Now I can kill you."

"MJ, what are you doing here?" Peter still has a hand pressed to his cheek, squinting through the dark of the room to make her out. She rolls her eyes.

"Oh stop being a baby, it was barely a tap. Also, you're not exactly a typical human."

"Why did you slap me?" He's pouting in a way that shouldn't be so adorable.

(Ugh. Feelings.)

"You didn't wake up when I said your name. Or prodded you. Or flick your forehead. Or the first time I _lightly patted_ you."

Peter leans back against his pillows, now a little more upright. "You didn't answer my question."

"I…" MJ starts but doesn't quite know where she was going with it. She doesn't know _how_ to start. Despite her earlier tantrum and storming off, something in her kept insisting she needed to see him awake, finally home again, to know it was real. She settles for, "I left my favourite jacket."

"No you didn't, you lost that jacket months ago at the coffee shop."

"I thought you might have stolen it. Just following up on a theory."

He's watching her closely, his dark eyes making her shift uncomfortably on the end of his bed.

"Ned said you left," he whispers.

" _You_ left first," she shoots back, barely restraining herself from yelling.

"I know." He looks down at the fingers tracing over his blanket. "I'm sorry. I thought -"

"You thought wrong, Peter." She can't hear him say it, that he was trying to keep them all safe, not when she hurt so much already. "Ned needed you and you bailed."

"I know."

"For someone so clever, you're ridiculously stupid. How could you possibly think leaving would help anyone? Ned was stabbed. May was all alone. I needed - I'm awesome but I clearly can't fill the hole you left." She gets up, paces to the other side of the room so she can brush away the tears she doesn't want him to see. "You don't just get to leave when shit gets rough."

Peter exhales heavily. "I know."

She tilts her head just enough to see him again, too full of emotion to get any closer. "I get that life sucks, and it's not been fair. I know you've lost people. You've dealt with so much more than any teenager - any person - should have to deal with. But superheroes don't get to quit. Friends don't get to quit. When you quit, people suffer. People get hurt. People need you, Peter - running away isn't an option."

A cold hand presses against her hip and she turns to see him just inches away, eyes full of unshed tears. He tugs gently until she's pressed against him, his arms wrapped around her. "I know, MJ. I'm sorry."

"It's not me you should be apologising to," she mutters, resting her forehead against his shoulder. All of a sudden, she's exhausted.

"Yes, I should. I'm sorry I worried you. I just needed some time."

MJ scoffs. "I wasn't worried about you."

"Yes, you were."

She inhales, lets his familiar scent wash over her. "Maybe just a little bit."

Peter pulls back and captures her pinkie finger with his own to tug her back to the bed. When they're both seated, he starts to speak again. "I'm so angry, MJ. All the time. Every night, I see so many people, bad people, just taking it all for granted. Throwing away their lives. And some sometimes I just… It's so unfair. Why do they get to live, and Uncle Ben didn't? Why do they get to do all these horrible things, and Mr Stark has to sacrifice himself to stop it?  My parents were - They shouldn't have died, but they did, and it's not fair. And when Ned got hurt, I couldn't handle it. I can count the people I love that are still alive on one hand. And I don't think I can take losing any of you, not again."

A tear slips down her cheek without her permission. She squeezes his hand tightly between her own, presses her fingers against the pulse point on his wrist to feel his heart beating, fast but steady. ' _I love you_ ' dances on the tip of her tongue, but she swallows it down. They have time for that later. For now, he needs a friend.

"I don't want to lose you, Peter," she admits quietly. "Every day, when you go out there in that suit, I…"

MJ finally meets his gaze, imploring him to understand something she barely understands herself. "You play a lot of different roles. You're Peter; you're Spiderman. You're a nephew, an orphan, a teenager. You're Ned's best friend. You're _my_ best friend. All of your experiences, good or bad, add up to who you are. And you are strong, and brave, and the best person I know. You have saved so many people, some without even realising. Life sucks," she repeats, "And you have every right to be angry at it. But you can't pick and choose which role you want, because it'll piss me off and I'll have to call in reinforcements again. If you weren't Spiderman, maybe that night would have gone differently, maybe Ned would have died. Maybe you would have died. If you weren't Spiderman, you never would have gotten that time to learn from Stark, even though it was only brief. And if you weren't Peter, well, I'd have probably murdered Flash by now."

Peter lets out a watery chuckle. "I'm sure he would have deserved it."

MJ smiles at him, the first genuine smile she's managed in weeks. "Don't bottle this up. You've got people who want to help. They're not going anywhere."

"What about you?" he whispers.

"What about me?"

"Are you going anywhere?"

MJ shakes her head. "You're stuck with me for life, I'm afraid."

* * *

 

May finds them the next morning, Peter curled up around MJ's legs. MJ is reading aloud from her book despite the boy in her lap falling asleep almost an hour before, and May smiles at the sight. The two of them remind her so much of the early days of her relationship with Ben, she thinks with a wistful sigh. The gentle touches, the bickering, the sparkle in their eyes when they risk a glance at the other. As MJ's free hand doodles across Peter's hip, she knows that some day, her nephew will be okay again. He may think it's his responsibility to save the world, but he has his own hero right by his side. 

She knows one day, they'll figure that out. 


End file.
